


can’t believe i made it (i made it that’s for sure)

by ouijadazed



Series: Teacher Harry / Student Louis [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 12 year age difference, Alternate Universe - High School, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Louis, Cheating, Daddy Kink, Fluff, Happy Ending, Infidelity, M/M, Rimming, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Harry, Underage Sex, Unrequited Love, age gap, uni mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-31 12:24:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3977911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ouijadazed/pseuds/ouijadazed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is in love with his teacher, Mr. Styles, who is engaged. That doesn't mean Louis can't try to be with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can’t believe i made it (i made it that’s for sure)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, it took me a while, but here it is. This is the longest I've written, and it means a lot, especially since it kind of came from my own fantasies and experiences. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy :D
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not support cheating or infidelity in any way. It is wrong, and should not be romanticized. That is not what this fic is supposed to do, so don't give me shit about it.

_“[As a teacher] It’s my job to make sure our society is not stupid, and right now it is. It’s my job to change that.” -JPN_

 

In the spring semester of Louis’ sophomore year, he stared in shock at his class listing. Theater, Health, English II, and World History. Nothing out of the ordinary, but the teachers, Brian, Morris, Matthews, Styles. He let out a stuttering breath at the last name on the list. Louis knew about him. Who knew that he would be in a class taught by the most attractive man he’d ever come to see.

 

Harry Styles was the school’s Psychology and World History teacher, who was also infamously gorgeous. All of the girls wanted to fuck him, and the boys wanted to be him. He walked the halls with prestige and confidence, not looking to the floor once, but always straight ahead. He was intimidating and intelligent, and completely and utterly handsome. He wore his long hair slicked back to keep it out of his face, and his long legs seemed endless. This was what most people saw on the outside, but Louis knew there was more to him than just his looks.

 

The first few days in the World History class went by slowly, but when Liam wanted to ask about the Psychology assignment, and of course Louis, being his best friend, tagged along.

 

The boy approached the classroom door slowly and nervously, not knowing how to open the door without seeming too enthusiastic. One knock, two, and on the third, the door was pulled open to reveal the stunning man. 

 

“Hello Mr. Styles, I’d like to ask you about the assignment you gave us last week during class,” Liam said, passing the shorter boy and entering the room. There were roughly thirty desks lined up in rows, and the walls were bland besides a few historical artifacts, and a bookshelf in the corner of the room. Louis took the seat that belonged to him during class, and pulled his phone out, trying to make himself not think about the man. Louis contemplated the possibilities of hooking up with the man, frowning when he remembered that Mr. Styles was twelve entire years older than his fifteen-year-old self. 

 

Louis was broken out of his trance by the man asking him a question he didn't quite understand, and in return he mumbled out an answer that probably wasn't anything close to correct or related to the subject.

Minutes later, Liam pulled him up by the hand and grabbed Louis’ bag for him as they left the classroom. Louis was still kind of shell shocked by this whole event.

 

“What did you act like that for?” Liam asked, “You barely paid attention to what he was saying to you, Louis. That was so rude of you.” 

 

Louis had no idea what he was talking about, so he just shrugged and grabbed his bag from Liam’s shoulder and continued walking to his bus. 

 

 

The next time he went to Mr. Styles’ classroom(aside from actually being in class) was when he was specifically asked to, at lunch on a Wednesday.

 

“Louis, you have three assignments that you have not turned in,” Mr. Styles said, looking up from his paperwork when Louis walked through the door. 

 

“I do? I’m sorry, I wasn't aware, Mr. Styles,” Louis said, blushing and looking at the all too interesting floor. 

 

“Would you care to tell me why you haven’t turned these things in? I rarely grade papers due to my hatred of doing so, but this is disappointing. No one else from your class has this many things not turned in.”

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sure I’ve done them, I just didn't turn them in,” Louis said, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and digging through his World History binder before pulling all of the assignments that were due. “Which ones are late?” Mr. Styles told him, and Louis gave the man his papers. 

 

“What classes are you taking right now?” Mr. Styles asked, seemingly to strike up a conversation. 

 

“Theater, English and Health,” Louis mumbled, taking the seat his bag was rested on. 

 

“Are you reading any books in English?” The man asked, not looking up from his paper.

 

“Yes, we are reading _Lord of the Flies_ right now, and we will begin reading _Macbeth_ next quarter.” 

 

Mr. Styles hummed, “I have two copies of Lord of the Flies on my shelf,” He said, looking to see if he could point them out.

 

“I know, you also have about a hundred other books there too,” Louis replied. He sits right next to the bookshelf in class, and often while Mr. Styles is going over a powerpoint or a lecture, he is studying the multitude of books. 

 

Just then the bell rang and Louis had to shuffle back to his desk, making it seem as if he wasn't just talking to the teacher. He is almost completely positive that anyone who saw him talking to Mr. Styles would be jealous of him.

 

The class started and Louis couldn't help but stare at the man throughout his lecture, admiring the man’s figure and confidence. He went on talking about the fall of the Roman empire, and if in-between powerpoint slides he doodled hearts around both of their names, no one would know.

 

The class ended too soon for Louis’ liking, and by the time the afternoon announcements were blared throughout the school, he still had all of his materials spread over his desk messily. He made quick work of shoving everything somewhat neatly into his bag, and waited by the door.

 

The dismissal bell rang, and he met up with Liam right after, so they could walk to the busses together. 

 

“How was it?” Liam asked, referring to Mr. Styles’ class. 

 

“It was fine, I’m just really anxious. School is over in a few months, and I’m not sure what I’ll do.” Louis confided. He was visibly nervous, not wanting any of the other students to realize what he is talking about.

 

“You’re going on a road trip with your family right? And your mum’s new baby?” 

 

“Yes, Lima Bean, I meant without Styles. Everything he says is important. I feel like everything he talks about in his class matters, and he cares about the subject he teaches,” Louis sighed, “It’s beautiful, really.”

 

“Ah, yes. Styles. He’s proper Daddy material, eh?” Liam chuckled, making the shorter boy blush. Liam didn’t like men the way Louis did, but he was very aware of Louis’ preferences and kinks. 

 

“Shuddup, that’s not the fucking point and you know it,” Louis said, realizing they had reached the bus lane. “Bye,” Louis shoved Liam in the direction of his bus, before getting on his own.

 

…

 

 

_“Most people in existence are dead. You’ll be dead much longer than you were alive, and as humanists, we must enjoy it.” -JPN_

 

“The Renaissance brought two new ideas to Italy, does anyone know what they are?” Mr. Styles asked the class after the attendance list had been sent. No one raised their hand, so the man continued talking, writing two words on the board. “Secularism. Humanism. Does anyone know what those words mean.” 

 

Again, no one raised their hand. “Great! I get to explain it to you, like the teacher I am. Secularism describes the time after the Middle Ages, when the community began to focus on things other than the church. This made the Catholic church, and the Pope, very angry,” The man said, writing his words on the board under ‘Secularism,’ in his unique scratch. 

 

“The Middle Ages was a dark time, where money was sparse, and taxes to the king were high. After the Black Death, which killed nearly three fourths of the European population, the people realized that they were suddenly more aware. This brought back artistic ideas, such as the Classical Style of ancient Rome.

 

“The Classical Roman style of art included pieces based solely on the human form, and most of the time involved nudity. This also made the church very angry, as one thing they hated very much was nudity. While people were recreating their cities, they continued to drift further and further from their dependance on the church for entertainment and hope, and found it in themselves, also known as secularism.” 

 

Louis took a deep breath as he wrote the words on the slide, adding in important facts and details Mr. Styles was including. It was the end of March now, there was only two months left of school and it was kind of hard to process.

 

“Now, secularistic ideas also brought humanism. Humanism is the idea that the individual is most important. This was expressed through, again, the Classical Style. On paintings and sculptures from the Italian Renaissance, the human is always at the center of attention,” Mr. Styles continued, “The human form is a beautiful, beautiful thing, and the Classical artists knew and expressed this.” A slide composed completely of one marble sculpture was shown, some images zoomed in further than others. 

 

“This is Michelangelo’s ‘David’. It took him a total of two years of constant sculpting to create this. Its, amazing really, that someone could make this, with their bare hands, a chisel, and nail no less. Michelangelo was twenty-six years old when he started this. That’s younger than I am currently, and all I’ve done in my lifetime is become a teacher for all of you losers.” Of course the class laughed at that, causing Mr. Styles to roll his eyes.

 

“The detail is truly amazing,” The man continued, pointing to the zoomed images. “Look here, the veins on the arms, and the individual tufts of hair. It’s incredibly, incredibly impressive.” The next slide showed a full picture of the statue, “The total sculpture height is fifteen feet, thats taller than this classroom. It is unbelievable that someone would spend so much time making such a beautiful sculpture glorifying the human figure” The boys in the class were giggling, which made Styles roll his eyes again.

 

“Yes! That is a penis! I’m so glad you’re able to identify the body part that some of you, the boys, and some girls maybe, see every single day. Wonderful!” The boy in the back was still laughing after the rest of them finally shut up, bringing Mr. Styles’ attention to him. “What’s so funny, Gabriel? Care to share?” 

 

“It’s so small, why didn’t Michelangelo make it bigger?” 

 

Mr. Styles cleared his throat, “Well, Gabe. Back in the time of the Renaissance, it was offensive and undesired for men to have large genitalia, now you know.”

 

Once everyone was quiet, Mr. Styles continued his lecture until the end of the class, describing the way Italian Renaissance thinkers appreciated the individual person. Humanistic qualities were so important to the people in this time, and Louis understood it. He understood that life is short, and death will be coming sooner than it may seem. You shouldn’t spend your life doing meaningless things, or moping about how you wish it could be better. It will be over before you know it. 

 

Louis was sure he was full-blown heart eyed right now. Everything Mr. Styles said had a huge impact on him, and he wasn’t sure it was healthy. He wanted to listen to every word that came out of the man’s mouth and hang on to them for the rest of his life. Mr. Styles made him want to be a better person.

 

…

 

 

_“Death is coming for all of us, and it is a beautiful gift; not because it is a welcome thing, but because it gives our life meaning.” -JPN_

 

 

_The day Louis finds out that Mr. Styles is getting married, he tries not to make it into a big deal. Sure, he cries a little, sure he complains to Liam, but he’s fine, really. He was browsing(stalking) Mr. Styles’ twitter, somehow making his way back to last October, when he sees the tweet._

 

 Harry Styles

@Harry_Styles: Guess who just got engaged! 

 

 

Attached to the tweet was an image of Mr. Styles and his dog, for some reason. Louis thought that him being engaged to a dog was much better than him being engaged to a woman. It was a thought Louis would like to keep out of his head for as long as possible. He texted Liam first, telling him the news and adding how sad he was about it. Liam, of course, responded with something along the lines of, ‘yeah, i knew that, now he rlly wont be ur daddy lol,’which made matters worse.

 

He did some digging, and found out that Styles was getting engaged to the school’s Fine Arts teacher. Not Mr. Brown, who he had last semester for Art I, but Ms. Edwards. Jessica Edwards was a tall, skinny woman with a sweet, smiling face. She seemed to be not at all what Harry would go for. She was always optimistic, whereas he often made clear of his ‘existential despair.’ She was pretty though, and he could tell that they would be good for each other, opposites attract and all that. 

 

For weeks, he saw the woman in the hallway only a few times. He tried his best not to scowl at her, even when she was smiling to him and the other students that passed by. Always Ms. Sunshine, seriously. He hated the thought of someone making Mr. Styles happy that wasn’t him, and it kind of made him sick. Maybe he just needed to get laid. 

 

Louis isn’t a virgin, okay. He has had sex with two people. His ex-boyfriend, last year, who moved away a month later, and his step-dad’s step-brother(who was roughly the same age as Mr. Styles, no kidding.) The latter was an entirely different story, though, other than just two kids kissing and it eventually turned into more, no. This was something else all together. They had both been high, and the man was drunk too, so you cant really blame him. He has only told Liam, and he plans for it to stay that way. If his parents found out, he would be in more trouble than any other time, and probably never see the light of day again. Aside from the two, he hadn’t had sex with anyone, and it had been nearly a year, sheesh. He was a teenage boy, he needed these things. Sometimes masturbating wasn’t enough. 

 

He needed to formulate a plan, quickly to get Mr. Styles to, at least, kiss him, or he would die. Like, literally. Fall over and just die. 

 

At school the next day, he spent his sixth(yes he’s counting, so shoot him) lunch with Mr. Styles, talking about anything with the man. He seemed so uninterested but still made sure to ask Louis questions about the stories he shared at the same time. It was intriguing. Louis managed to get the man to tell him some of his favorite music, as well, which made his heart flutter when he listed the artists in his iTunes library. They talked about books, and the way some people think it’s okay to wear shirts called ‘wifebeaters’ and think nothing of it. 

 

Louis gathered enough courage quickly to tell the man about how awful his step father is, never appreciating anything he does and always being disappointed with him, even when he tries his hardest. He really wasn’t telling him this for pity, but he wanted Mr. Styles to know. It felt necessary. 

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. My dad’s a fucking idiot. I’m glad I got away from him when I did,” Mr. Styles mentioned. Louis blushed at the man’s cursing, secretly finding it a little hot. “I know what you’re going through, so, like, if you need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.”

 

“Thank you.”

“It’s what teachers are for, really. They’re like an additional parental figure that you can complain about your parents to. Or be like the supportive parent. Or whatever,” The man said calmly. He was always so calm, taking things responsively and smartly. He had common sense, that was for sure. It truly warmed Louis’ insides to hear the man talk to him like this, like he cared. It made him think they were something more, like friends, possibly. 

 

They continued talking about every-day problems and what the society has become. He enjoyed and appreciated when the man talked of feminism and his belief for equality between the sexes. It’s hard to find a man who believes in that, and it made him want to shout with joy. When Louis spoke of this boy he had been talking to(His name was Zayn, and they only made out once,) being a dick and not talking to him anymore, Mr. Styles sympathized with him and told him how stupid teenage boys were. Louis ignored the fact that yes, he was a teenage boy, but no, Mr. Styles did not make any shocked or homophobic comment towards him at all. 

 

Louis chose a quiet moment to tell Mr. Styles about the upcoming production he was in for his Theater class.

 

“My class is putting on a show this week. Thursday and Wednesday. Do you think you could come?” The boy asked, pulling the older man from his reading.

 

“Yeah. What time is is?” Louis replied with ‘seven’ and Mr. Styles continued talking. “I can’t come on Wednesday, but sure, I’ll be there Thursday. Just keep reminding me.” 

 

As Louis mumbled in agreement, the bell rang. He shuffled quickly from the seat closest to the man’s desk and to his seat, instantly shutting up and getting his books out and getting ready for class. It was mid April now, meaning they were studying World War II and Russia.

 

When they reached the discussion of Stalin and his Gulag war prisons, Mr. Styles made a good point in mentioning the 10 million that were killed there, 23 million in total from the two world wars. 

 

“Our ally in WWII killed more people than Hitler, but we don’t talk about it. We don’t talk about it, but I’m gonna talk about it because I like talking about things we shouldn’t talk about.” Styles said, flipping quickly through the slides

 

Louis smiled, biting his lip down as he marked that quote on his paper. The class continued to take notes and intently listen to what the man had to say. It was painful that the man of his dreams was getting married, but that only made him need to try harder. 

 

…

 

Thursday night, the night of the production, Louis spotted Mr. Styles looking awkwardly around in the hallway for someone to talk to while he waited for the show to start. It wasn’t even six-thirty yet, so they still had plenty of time to wait. Mr. Styles spotted Louis and they silently walked to the back of school campus to the man’s classroom. 

 

“So, how was your day?” Louis asked, referring to the man’s absence in class that day. Mr. Styles made his trademark ‘whatever’ mumble, quickly gathering things from his desk and putting them into his bag. He was dressed in a navy blue suit with a camouflage tie; something he rarely wears. Instead of asking him about it, Louis imagined he dressed this way especially for the production. 

 

He tried not to be bothered with the fact that they were in the room alone, with the lights off, and the entire campus practically deserted. Mr. Styles gathered the rest of his things before leading Louis back to the door, gesturing for him to exit first. Proper gentleman and all that. 

 

They spent the rest of the time walking through the school and talking about their favorite songs, particularly Lana Del Rey and The Weeknd, who they both liked a lot. Louis found out that Mr. Styles’ friend was casted as the man in the ‘Born to Die’ video, which was sort of admirable. Mr. Styles had been to a Lana concert last year, when she did her show in London. Louis imagined what it would be like to go to a concert with Mr. Styles, watch him have fun, get lost in the music with this man. 

 

Ms. Brian came to where Louis was sitting to tell him that it was time to get ready, and he complied. He got his costume on and said his last goodbye to Mr. Styles before he took his place on stage.

 

 

Once the show was over, Louis met up with Mr. Styles once more before asking for a selfie with the man, somewhat shamefully. It was as awkward as it seemed, taking a selfie with his favorite teacher. 

 

“You just hit the button there to take the picture,” Louis told the man once he had taken his phone, insisting it was only rational, since he was taller. 

 

“Oh really? Is that how a camera works?” Louis blushed, nodding and putting on his award winning smile for the camera. 

 

Harry gave the boy his phone back, “You did really well tonight,” He said, glancing at the boy’s costume again. 

 

“Thank you,” Louis replied, still blushing. “Thank you for coming, honestly, it was amazing to have you here. My own mum didn’t make it, so I’m glad you were here.” 

 

“Yeah, it’s a shame she didn’t come. I think you did really good, and I was disappointed I didn’t get to sit by her and tell lies to get you in trouble.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Louis pouted. His mum would probably believe Mr. Styles and ground him, if he were being truthful. 

 

Mr. Styles reached his hand up for a high-five, which Louis awkwardly complied to, “I’ll see you tomorrow in class,” The man said before walking away, down the hallway and out to his car.

 

Louis sighed, feeling the tingles of where the man’s hand touched his own. He looked at the selfie once more before heading outside to call his mum to pick him up. 

 

…

 

 

The last week of Louis’ sophomore year, he spent the only day he would see Mr. Styles, because of the schedule for final exams, in the man’s classroom. He helped organize the bookshelf, and just talking to the man in general. It had been weeks since Louis needed Liam in the room with him for confidence, instead going into the classroom by himself during lunch. Decidedly, this was the last possible day to make his move.

 

It wasn’t something Louis would usually do, in all honesty. He was a good student, and despite sometimes arguing with his little sister, he hardly got in trouble at home neither. 

 

He silently toed to the door and locked it, so just in case no one would walk in on them. He closed the blinds and pretended to be dusting the windowsill for the man, who was still cleaning the marker-stained whiteboard. 

 

The boy made quick work of undoing his uniform tie and shrugging off his blazer, casually walking over to the man. 

 

“Almost done, Mr. Styles?” He asked with a sly smile. The man turned around, marker residue on his hands and a ratty black t-shirt lying on the floor. Harry had a slight smile on his face, a narcissistic smirk that drove Louis crazy. 

 

“Yeah, now I am,” He replied, looking Louis up and down. “Where’d your blazer go?” 

 

“I left it on my chair, it’s getting kind of hot in here, don’t you think, Mr. Styles?” Louis whispered, trying to reach his tiny fingers up the man’s chest and to the top button of his shirt. He nimbly undid the button before large hands grabbed him. 

 

“Louis, you’re being unprofessional. I’m your teacher,” Harry said, showing no emotion. “I’m engaged, this is wrong.”

 

The younger boy rolled his eyes, “But Mr. Styles, how can you do this? You’re so hot, and nice. Pl _ease,”_ Louis drawled out, his attempt at being seductive, or sexy. He unbuttoned the next three before Mr. Styles said anything else. 

 

“Louis, class will start soon, please.” 

 

“No, I locked the door. The blinds are closed, no one will come in any time soon,” Louis said in between kisses to the man’s exposed chest. Louis could tell he was growing harder, and he silently smirked to himself. He kneeled down to cheekily mouth at the growing bulge, breathing on it and kissing the zipper. 

 

That was until Harry pushed him off completely and lead the boy to his desk. Pencils and papers fell onto the floor as Harry shoved the boy harder. “Can’t believe you’d fucking do this, Louis. I thought you were different.” 

 

Louis moaned as the tie was yanked from around his neck so hard it made rips. “I am different, I’m letting you bend me over your desk. I bet none of those other girls would let you do this.”

 

Mr. Styles grunted as he continued shedding Louis of his uniform, piece by piece. “Yeah? You don’t think I could call in any girl- had I taught her or not- and she’d be one hundred percent willing. Don’t think I don’t know how they all look at me.”

 

Louis whimpered when his school shorts were tugged down to reveal his bare ass, no sign of briefs anywhere to be seen. Mr. Styles slapped the peachy skin twice, forming hand-shaped prints on the bare flesh. He smirked at the forming welts, unzipping his trousers and pulling out his aching cock. He thanked God that it was illegal to have cameras in the classroom, and that they still had twenty minutes until class would begin. He kneeled down to get eye-level with Louis’ ass, spreading his cheeks to see the hole was already stretched. 

 

“Bad boy, when did you prep yourself? Did you plan this? You did, what a naughty minx.” Harry chastised, blowing into the hole and giving it a tedious stroke with his tongue. Louis nodded, his cheek pressed into a pile of papers to be graded. 

 

“Yeah, fuck, I left last period early and-ah shit! fingered myself in the boys’ bathroom,” Louis admitted as the man continued lapping at his hole. “My boxers are in my bag still, didn’t have time to put them back on, because the bell rang, and I came straight here,” Louis managed to squeeze out before he was moaning too much.

 

“You naughty boy, begging your teacher to fuck you. I’ll give you what you want, slut.” With that, he reached into his back pocket and pulled the condom from his wallet. “I don’t suppose you have any lube on you?” 

 

Louis strangled out a choked instruction to the breast pocket of his blazer, where there was a small packet of the substance along with a large sized condom. Harry took the condom to replace the one in his wallet. After the man had slipped the latex over his member, he poured the lube over it and the boy’s hole. He pushed in quickly, drawing in a breath to match Louis’. 

 

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” Louis whimpered, earning another spank from Mr. Styles. The man was pushing in and out of him quickly, grunting loudly. 

 

Harry took a moment before he thrusted in again, relishing the moment that he would be fucking this boy. He was twelve years younger than him, underage for God’s sake. The man sighed, remembering his fiancé, who was just a short walk away back to the main building. In two more months he would be married, and this would be just a memory for the two of them.

 

Louis pushed back on the man’s cock harshly, ripping papers with his torso. It caused Harry to groan out in pleasurable agony, and to awake from his thoughts. He was now motivated to get the most out of this experience. 

 

 Harry was thrusting in and out of the small boy’s tight hole harder than before, grabbing his hips roughly.He was sure his grip would leave bruises, but that was the least of his worries. The man flipped Louis over, so his back was now on the desk. He admired the boy’s red face and disheveled hair. He pressed a kiss to his neck, cheek, then lips before pounding harder, drawing more moans from both of them. 

 

“God, fuck me so hard, Daddy,” Louis moaned, causing Harry to snap his hips hard. Louis’ eyes rolled back in his head, petite body shuddering and shaking in the pleasure of a premature orgasm. The boy’s small dick twitched a few times before it was dribbling come out of the swollen head, pouring onto the exposed skin of his stomach and hip. 

 

Seeing the sight before him, Mr. Styles shot his load into the condom, pulling out of the boy. His hair was messier now, and his clothes were crumpled, which was something that would be questioned by his students. He left Louis to fix himself while he opened the door to the closet in the corner of the room to look into the mirror.

 

While Mr. Styles was fixing his appearance, Louis found his briefs in his bag and slipped them on before pulling up his shorts. He redid the buttons of his shirt and slipped the blazer around his shoulders. There was no stopping the shaky breath he took. This was it, this was the last time this would ever happen, and everything is going to go back to normal. Sure, he fucked the hottest man alive, but would he ever get to hold his hand? Or go on dates with him? The answer is no. Mr. Styles would be a married man the next time he saw him, and everything that just happened will be nothing but a memory. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Came the voice of Mr. Styles, who, somehow, looked the same as he did when he arrived at school this morning. Louis realized then that his face was wet with tears, and this really wasn’t supposed to happen. 

 

“Nothing,” Louis stated, turning back to his bag, wincing when his bum ached a little. Harry was definitely the largest cock he’d ever taken, out of the three total. 

 

“Obviously something’s wrong, you’re crying,”Mr. Styles stated, as if it wasn’t obvious. Louis rolled his eyes.

 

“Nice one, genius.”

 

“Really, tell me what’s wrong. I cant have you telling someone we did this, and then the news getting out to Jessica, and then she’ll tell the school board and have me fired and arrested. I really need you to tell me, so I can make it better,” The man said, taking Louis’ shoulders in his arms.

 

“Mr. Styles, I think I’m in love with you,” Louis breathed, more tears flowing.

 

The man released Louis, looking into his red-rimmed eyes, “Louis, you know I’m engaged, right?” Louis mumbled a reply. “Well, I really love her. And this was a one-time thing.”

 

“Of course! Thank you so much for that clarification. I obviously had no fucking idea,” Mr. Styles groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

“Louis, you’re my student. I’m twelve years older than you, hell, I could be your dad, almost,” Harry tried to comfort the boy, there was honestly no way they’d be able to make anything else from this screwed-up situation. 

 

It was okay though. The bell would ring in two minutes, class would begin, they would take their finals, and Louis would leave. He would leave Mr. Styles’ class until next school year, when he was a Junior and sixteen. He would be taking Psychology, which he had planned to take in case Mr. Styles still wanted to talk to him, but seeing as their current standing, he couldn’t imagine they would ever be normal again.

 

 

 

…

 

 

 

In the Fall semester of Louis’ Junior year, he had Mr. Styles, yet again for Psychology. He arrived in the class during second period, older, more mature, more knowledgable. He tried desperately not to make eye contact for the first month, but when he was doing exceedingly well in the subject, Mr. Styles would often allow him to skip study guides to help him grade papers, which typically involved them talking. 

 

It was a Friday in October when Mr. Styles asks him to stay after school to help with grading the tests. Louis tries not to be bothered, that all they will be doing is grading, and nothing will happen, especially nothing like what happened in May. Of course, he has to ask his parents first (He tells them he has to make up a test to avoid suspicion. They were already skeptical when they found out he ate lunch with Mr. Styles most days). 

 

He opens the door to the classroom at three PM when most of the students have left. He grabbed a bag of crisps and a Coke at the convenience store before coming, in case he got hungry. Mr. Styles is still there fiddling with his phone, ring on his left hand clear as day. There was a pile of papers nearly a foot high in front of him. It would be ordinary, just a normal grading session, if there wasn’t a pretty blond woman in the middle of the room, ruining his mood. 

 

It was Jessica, obviously. She was nearly as tall as the man standing up, but here, when she was sitting down, she looked small. Petite and beautiful, with shiny blue eyes and a smile nearly always on her face. I mean, hell she was even looking happy while she sat through her own pile of papers to be graded. 

 

“Good afternoon, Louis. I have half of this stack for you to grade, the answer key is on the top of the pile,” Louis nodded, accepting the stack and sitting down. “Louis, this is Mrs. Styles, my wife, and the Fine Arts teacher. I don’t think you’ve met?” 

 

Louis shook his head, accepting the smile and curt nod of the head the woman gave him. He tried not to shoot daggers into her face with his eyes when they met glances. He started working on his pile, hurrying through the first fifty and then taking a break. He opened his potato chips, taking one and then sipping his Coke. 

 

He was done with his stack and left without another word, only to receive an e-mail an hour later.

 

From: Styles, Harry

Louis, I’d like you to come to my classroom during lunch on Monday. We have things to discuss.

 

 

Louis took a deep breath, locking the screen of his phone and shoving it into his pocket.

 

 

…

 

 

On Monday at lunch, he sent a text to Liam, telling him he couldn’t make it to their regular lunch meeting place. He made the walk to Mr. Styles’ room, to find him about to open the door. “Good afternoon.”

 

“You too,” Louis replied. Looking around the room, there was no other person in there with them. The last time that was the case, Louis was bent over the desk, being pounded into. 

 

“So, Louis. I’d like to ask you if you’d want to be my student worker next year. I know it’s a long ways away, but I’d just like to know what you thought of the idea?” 

 

Louis thought for a minute, and then nodded, “Yeah. I think I could. I’m going to have a lot of room for electives next year, especially since I took all of my core classes this and last year,” The boy said, fiddling with the buttons on his blazer. 

 

“Okay, well I’m going to need to give you my number, if that’s okay,” Mr. Styles concluded. He reached over to get his phone from on a stack of books on his desk, giving it to Louis.

 

Louis typed in his number, and then sent a text to himself, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket a moment later. He gave the man his phone back before adding the number to his phone as ‘Harry’, to avoid all suspicion if his parents were to ask.

 

Louis left minutes later and went to his Chemistry class, trying hard not to think it means anything.

 

There wasn’t much more interaction between the two like that, besides the once-a-week lunch they shared. Never once did Mr. Styles make any hints to bring up what happened between them all those months ago, and perhaps this was for the best. 

 

 

 

…

 

 

A year later, Liam convinced Louis to take the Duel Enrollment Psychology course, which undoubtedly was taught by Mr. Styles.

 

Which, of course, meant that he would be in the man’s classroom for an entire class period, plushis free period to be Mr. Styles’ student worker. That meant there was three hours each day that would be spent with Mr. Styles, the man who fucked him senselessly in this very room nearly two years ago. It was painful to think about, and if he really wanted to, Louis could still feel the dull ache of the gape in his hole, where the man had been. 

 

Louis had matured. Kind of a lot. He grew(a little), and his face wasn’t near as chubby as it was back then. He hadn’t been with anyone else, how could he ever? The man he loved rejected him that day, and he knew he couldn’t risk it again.

 

After that day, Louis built walls that only had one door. One door with only one lock, one key that would bring the whole thing tumbling down. And Mr. Styles had the only key. It was cliche, sure, but if this man ever made the decision to have Louis again, the boy would let him. 

 

He walked in the room the first day, not near as excited as he would have been. He’d been thinking too much, too hard. He couldn’t stop it if the man wanted him, but honestly, what’re the chances he would?

 

The first day in class, there was nothing unusual, as expected. It was the same for weeks, and Louis didn’t know what he expected. He had no idea why he thought he wouldn’t be treated the same as everyone else.

 

In the time when he was acting as a student worker for Mr. Styles, they didn’t have much to do. They graded what papers were there in record time, and spent the majority of the rest of the time just chatting, like they used to, during lunch Sophomore. It was nostalgic and sad, really. 

 

Louis wished and hoped that one day things would change between them, but unfortunately his plan to get into a relationship with the man before failed. He knew thought hopefully that getting the man to realize how good of a fuck he was, then maybe he would want something more. But Louis knew better now. He knew that adults looked for much more than just a tight ass when looking for a partner, and it wasn’t easy to live up to the standards. 

 

Especially the standards of a married man, twelve years his senior. 

 

…

 

It was a Thursday night, when everything went to hell. Louis had gotten home, done his chores and homework, and was about to finally settle down for the night with a cup of tea when his parents called him in the living room to talk. His two younger sisters(one twelve, the other eight,) had been sent to their rooms. 

 

“Louis,” His step father said sternly. “We found something questionable in your laundry basket today.” Louis panicked inside, thinking of all of the things he hid in there, only to be moved to a different place later on. Louis usually did his own laundry, so there was no worrying about someone finding something. He remembered not seeing any clothes in his basket when he got home, and his eyes blew wide.

 

“Wha-“ He swallowed, “What did you find?” His mother had her arms crossed, and her head was turned away. That was almost always a sign that she was disgusted. It wasn’t good.

 

Louis’ step father, Dan, pulled something from his lap, the suspense killing Louis from the inside. In front of him on the wooden coffee table was his tiny vibrator. Liam bought it for him for his last birthday as a joke, and he never had to know he used it sometimes. 

 

The object was small, pink, and plastic, shaped like a a pill capsule, no bigger than a thumb. It had a long cord attached to it with a remote on the other end. If Louis was being honest, he only used it a few times a month, on those particularly exhausting days, when he just needed a little extra stimulation, and he might have forgotten about it in the laundry hamper the last time. 

 

“Care to tell us what this is, Louis?” Dan asked. Louis’ face was blazing now, and he gulped before speaking.

 

“It’s um, a. It’s a vibrator,” The boy choked out, tears threatening to fall. His parents had no idea that he was gay, and this was probably the worst among many ways for them to find out, especially with them being as homophobic as they come. 

 

“And where did you get it? I know for a fact it isn’t yours.”

 

Louis took another breath and squeezed his eyes shut before admitting to it. “It’s mine, Dan. Liam gave it to me for my birthday as a joke, and it’s mine. I’m so sorry.” He was crying now, and Dan took the object from the table and pulled the cord straight out of it, and proceeded to pound his fist on the plastic, smashing it to small mechanical bits. Louis allowed the tears to fall as he looked at what used to be the only escape he had, other than his own fingers. 

 

“I don’t ever want to see anything like this from you anymore. Joke or not, it was very irresponsible of Liam to give you this. Is this something you two do often?” Dan asked.

 

Louis shook his head violently, “No, it was just a joke. Liam didn’t do anything wrong. It was all for laughs, I swear.”

 

“So what you’re saying, is that you’ve never used this, and you are not into having things up your bum at all, then?” His mother snapped all of a sudden, staring at him with what must be described as pure fury and rage. 

 

Louis stuttered momentarily, before Dan cut in, “Save it. Go to your room, now.” The boy was sobbing harshly now. 

 

When he got to his room, Louis shut the door quietly, scrolling through his contacts for someone to come get him. This was the last straw. He couldn’t stay here any longer, and he needed to be gone sooner than later. All of his friends either don’t have a license, or a car yet, surprisingly, being seventeen. He got to the contact ‘Harry’ before scrolling quickly past it, attempting to find another person. 

 

With no luck, having contacted three of his good friends, Louis stared at Mr. Styles’ number for roughly ten minutes before calling. It was nearly eleven, and he really couldn’t expect the man to answer. 

 

To his surprise there was a click and then a man spoke on the other line, “Hello?” Louis took a deep breath, and replied.

 

His voice was still shaky from crying when he spoke, “Mr. Styles?”

 

“Louis? What’s wrong?” Mr. Styles asked quietly through the phone. Louis’ hands were getting sweaty now, not knowing what to say,

 

“I- um. I’m sorry to bother you,” He took a breath, “I need somewhere to stay.”

 

“No, no. Your’e not bothering me. Why do you need a place? Did something happen?” 

 

Louis inhaled and exhaled deeply before telling the man the story with his parents, trying as hard as he could not to use the word ‘vibrator’ at all. Mr. Styles stayed quiet, until the boy was finished telling him about how he couldn’t stay here any more, and he needed to leave for a while. 

 

“Yeah, text me your address. My wife isn’t at home, so that won’t be a problem,” Harry said, allowing Louis’ to agree before hanging up. Louis gave the man his address, saying to not come any time before two AM, seeing as his parents could still be awake. 

 

Louis packed an over night bag, putting clothes for school the next day in, along with pajamas and a spare set of clothing. He packed underwear, his computer, his journal, and toiletries. He tore a page out of his journal, writing a note to his parents and folded it up, leaving it on his desk. 

 

_Mum and Dan,_

_I understand that you’re probably really disappointed with me right now, and I understand that. It’s why I’m leaving for the weekend. I’m going to school tomorrow, and I will be home after school on Monday. You will not try to find me, nor will you call or text me once if you want me to come back. Tell the girls that I’m at a friend’s house so they don’t worry._

_I’m not mad at either of you, I just need some time away. I’m safe, I promise. I’m staying with someone I trust my life with (it isn’t Liam, don’t call him, he knows nothing)._

_I love you both, and i hope that over the weekend you can find some time to forgive me. I will come back on Monday, and if you haven’t forgiven me, I will leave again. I will come back later after that, and if you still haven’t forgiven me for my mistakes, I will have to move in with Gram, because I don’t think I could live with either of you, or myself, knowing that I am a disappointment in your eyes._

_I love you both,_

_Louis_

 

Thinking hard about what else to bring, his phone buzzed with a text from Mr. Styles saying that he was in the driveway. He grabbed a charger and earbuds before leaving quietly out the front door. 

 

Mr. Styles was there in the driveway, drumming his fingers on the wheel. Louis slid into the passenger seat, putting his bag on the floor in front of him.

 

“All set?” The man asked. Louis nodded, feeling his eyes sting with wetness again. This was really happening. He was really about to leave his parents without them knowing(until they got the note, at least). 

 

The ride to Mr. Styles’ house was nearly thirty minutes, and about halfway through, it started raining. Not just raining, pouring. Heavy droplets pounding the windshield hardly, making sounds seemingly loud enough to imitate rocks cracking the glass. 

 

 

They made it to the house, which turned out to be the stereotypical white-picket-fence house, shockingly enough. There was actually a picket fence in the front yard, and in the back. From under the dark clouds and pelting rain, Louis could see a garden that looked as if it just started to die out after a beautiful season of growing. 

 

The door was red with a window in the center, sitting at the top of three steps. Louis took note of the wooden swing on the porch, imagining Harry and Jessica sitting there early Sunday mornings, having their coffee or tea, and doing cute couple-y things like they should. 

 

“Come one in, then,” The man said once the door was unlocked. It was cozy on the inside, and very colorful. It was clear who did the decorating in this house, Louis didn’t see Harry as the type to put up bright paintings and flowered throw pillows. “I’ll show you to the guest room.”

 

As it turned out, the guest room was a room filled with artwork, canvases hanging and some propped against the wall, shelves of sculpted art, and a bureau filled to the brim with paints, brushes, materials and the likes. He gets situated, and close to three AM, Harry comes in to tell him goodnight. It shouldn’t feel this normal.

 

 

In the morning, Harry has a cup of coffee in his hand and tea in the kettle for Louis, and it seems almost surreal. Like this could be what he wakes up to for the rest of his life. 

 

“Mornin’,” The man says cheerily as Louis walks groggily into the kitchen. Louis nods his head, hair flat to the side of his head from sleep. “I’m making tea.”

 

“You don’t like tea,” Louis noted, waking up a little more. He took a seat on a bar stool, resting his head on his arms.

 

“Yeah, but you do,” Harry retorted. Louis didn’t look up, in case his blush was too prominent. Harry passed the boy his tea, setting the small bowl of sugar cubes and ceramic pitcher of milk next to him. 

 

Louis looked up the, and put two of the cubes in his tea and blowing the steam. “So where’s Jessica?” 

 

“Oh, she’s at her sister’s wedding. She’ll be in London for the next week, so it’s just me and the pets,” Harry said, making Louis’ ears perk up. 

 

“Pets?” Harry nodded, smiling slightly. 

 

“I’ll let you meet them after school. Now hurry and drink your tea, it’s nearly seven,” Mr. Styles said, leaving the room supposedly to change. Louis downed the rest of his tea. He hopped down from the tall chair and skipped back to the guest room to get dressed.On the way to the room, he ran into a wall he hadn’t noticed before. Looking up, he noticed that it was Harry. He tried to excuse himself and go around the man, who was just standing there, looking at him. When he tired, Harry grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back into the wall.

 

“Don’t say you don’t want me, Louis,” He growled. Louis could feel himself hardening, letting out a strangled whimper. “Tell me you want this.”

 

“Fuck, I want this. Please,” Louis whispered. This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. In harry’s home, that he shares with his _wife._

 

Harry guided Louis’ lips to his own with a hand on the boy’s neck. “We’re going to miss first period, but, god dammit, Louis. I want to fuck you so bad.” Louis nodded rapidly in agreement.

 

“Yeah, yeah, so bad, do it please.”

 

And he did. Harry grabbed his hips, pulling the boy around his waist and carried him back to the guest room. “Too risky in my room,” Harry mumbled into the boy’s neck.

 

Louis undid the tie to his pajama pants, yanking them down his legs in a rush. He let Harry between them not a second later, ready for his fingers, cock, anything. “God, just fuck me,” Louis moaned. Harry grabbed the lube he apparently had hidden in his pocket, knocking down a line of canvases along the wall as he was trying to undo his belt. 

 

He squirted the lube on two of his fingers, sliding them into Louis, slowly and then faster. He started to work in a third before Louis stopped him. 

 

“No, I’m ready, promise.”

 

“Yeah?” Harry asked, “You sure?”

 

Louis nodded, greedy already, “Yes, please fuck me.”

 

“Who do you want to fuck you, baby?” Harry asked, hoping desperately that Louis would call him daddy, like he did that one day.

 

As if he was reading Harry’s mind, Louis closed his eyes and hummed, “You, Daddy.” The sound made Harry only that much harder, only that much more enthused to fuck this boy. He was seventeen now, two whole years older, so not so much a boy, anymore. Harry himself was twenty-nine now, almost thirty. 

 

He nodded to the boy’s reply, “Good boy.” Harry slipped on the condom and rubbed the rest of the lube onto his stiff and aching cock, slowly sliding into the boy. Louis was laying flat on his back, legs perched folded in the air at this point, and Harry was standing, leaned over the bed. The younger man had his fingers entwined in Mr. Styles’ hair, now sweaty and unruly.

 

Harry started thrusting at a steady pace now, in and out at a faster pace. Louis was moaning and whining in his higher pitched voice, and Harry was grunting, every time the head of his cock caught on Louis’ rim. 

 

“Fuck, yeah, Daddy,” Louis moaned out on a particularly hard thrust. A few moments later, his moans escalated from steady to high and whiny. He screamed once and came all over his t-shirt and Harry’s bare chest. 

 

“So pretty, baby, doing so good, fuck,” Harry grunted, biting and sucking Louis’ collarbone to leave a hickey. He spilled his load into the condom, pulling out and flopping onto the bed next to Louis, his pants still down to his ankles. “We might miss second period, too.”

 

Harry was asleep for the next hour, and every minute, Louis would mumble something along the lines of ‘I love you’ or ‘you’re so perfect,’ only having the confidence to say these things when the man was asleep. 

 

 

For a brief moment as he was getting his clothes on, he wondered if his parents found his note, or if they already called the cops. He hoped they followed through, because if not, he would be in even more trouble when he got home, having to face them. 

 

Harry drove the two of them to campus at ten that Friday morning, dropping Louis at the gate so no one could see them walk in together, nor have any chances of it being picked up on cameras. The man gave Louis a nod goodbye, and drove to his assigned parking spot. 

 

Louis made his way to the front office, checking himself in and going to class. Physics was a breeze, especially for someone as bright as Louis, so he had no worries. Third period was when he had Mr. Styles’ class, and since the man’s off period was first period, he didn’t have to face him alone until they drove home that evening. 

 

 

The next few days staying at Mr. Styles’ house flew by quicker than Louis would have wanted. They fucked on more surfaces than Louis even knew there were, and on Sunday night, they bleached most of the house, removing any residue that could point to their little affair. 

 

On Monday morning, the two surprisingly made it to school on time. They parted at the school gates, this time with a kiss. 

 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes,” Harry whispered, caressing Louis’ cheek and kissing him one last time before driving to his parking place. Louis was still in a daze. After everything that happened this weekend, he wasn’t sure what he would go home to. Thursday night seemed so long ago, and he would be home again this afternoon. He wasn’t sure if his parents would scowl or embrace him. He hadn’t a single clue where he would go if they hadn’t forgiven him for what they’d found, sure that Harry wouldn’t accept him any longer. Especially since Jessica was coming home on Wednesday, there would be little to no chance they could stay together any longer. 

 

The two spent first period kissing, the whole time was just innocent kisses and faint smiles. It was like, ‘here, I graded the rest of the quizzes,’ from Louis, and then Harry would kiss him, just like that. Harry would pass Louis books from his desk to put on the shelf, and when reaching down to grab it, Louis would kiss the man, nearly falling from his stance on the chair a few times. Neither of them could be bothered to care what this meant now. So they kissed, and had an affair for a weekend, so what? No one had to know. 

 

 

Louis arrived at his house at three o’clock on the dot, too scared to put his key in the lock. He turned the key and unlocked the door, walking inside cautiously. He acted natural, like he wasn’t affected at all, but on the inside, he sort of expected to be met at the door and forced back out. He was holding his school bag around one shoulder, and his over-night bag in his left hand, slowly walking to his bedroom. 

 

Upon opening the door, he let out a sigh of relief when he found the note was no longer on his desk. He threw his bags on the floor when he heard a door shut across the hallway.

 

“Louis?” His mother’s voice sounded gentle, near timid. “Is that you, darling?” 

 

“Yeah, Mum. It’s me,” Louis said, walking into her warm embrace. Before he knew it, they were both crying, wet faces buried into the other’s shoulder. He was so thankful he was in his mother’s arms, now. He needed this, to be reminded that he was loved.

 

“Oh, Boobear, we missed you so much. I’m so sorry,” Jay said, looking regretful, like she wished Thursday never had happened. “Please, never leave like that again.”

 

“I won’t, Mum. I love you, and Dan and the girls dearly,” Louis replied, “It pained me so much leaving.”

 

“Don’t ever do that again, we love you too.”

 

And like that, it was okay again. He was home now. 

 

 

 

Graduation was approaching quicker than necessary, and Louis had had sex with Mr. Styles five times since he stayed at the man’s house that weekend. They kissed every day during first period, and when they were feeling extra brave, they left some mornings to have breakfast a few towns over, where no one knew who they are, no one knew their story.

 

Louis had successfully gotten a scholarship to Manchester University, only a few hours away from his home town, for Psychology. His dorm, classes, and books were paid for by the University, and everyone was proud of him. It felt like for once, Dan was proud of him for something, couldn’t care less about the grade he got in math. 

 

He would start packing and moving out the day after graduation, and to be honest, he was glad to be out of the house. To get the freedom he deserved, finally, at nearly eighteen years old. 

 

 

On the day of graduation, he accepted his diploma, shook all of the school official’s hands, and walked off stage with a beaming smile. He was finally done, finally free. Although Liam was moving to London for school, he would still keep in touch. They had to, though, honestly. You don’t go four entire years with someone and just act like it didn’t happen. They would see each other every other weekend, the plans arranged themselves, really. 

 

As for Mr. Styles, Louis slipped him a note on the last day, giving him his dorm number, and days that he would be free. He left that day with a wink and a shake of his bum, and it was a piece of cake. Mr. Styles couldn’t resist Louis, the boy knew he would visit him as often as possible, if not every day he was free. He just knew it.

 

 

 

Halfway through his second semester, Mr. Styles had only visited him three times. They didn’t fuck the first, or second, but on the third, Louis was nearly gagging for it. The man tied him to the bed with the cuffs Louis bought(his first self-indulgent purchase), and pounded into him deep, just like old times. He left with a grunt of ‘gotta make Jess dinner, shit,’ and that was the last time he’d seen the man in a month. They texted, though. They were constantly in touch, if not every day, then every other day. Louis could live with this.

 

 

It was a rainy night in late May, coincidentally on the three-year anniversary of the first time he had sex with Harry, when the man showed up at Louis’ dorm, soaking wet. 

 

“Louis, fuck. I needed to see you,” Harry panted, having seemingly ran all the way from his car in the rain. He grabbed Louis by the back of the head, kissing him with fervor. “No, later.”

 

“Harry, why are you here?” Louis asked, still curious. He had just gotten out of the shower, wearing a pair of flannel pajama pants and an over-sized t-shirt. “Where’s Jess?”

 

“That’s why I’m here, Louis. When I left last time, Jessica was at home, filing for divorce. She apparently was done with me ‘refusing to show love to her’” Harry admitted, putting air quotes around the last bit. “The papers were finalized this afternoon, and it was then, that I discovered that I am in love with you, Louis Tomlinson.”

 

Louis gasped, blushed, and laughed at the same time, crashing his lips to the older man’s, “I’m in love with you too, you dolt. Have been for three years, now.”

 

“Yeah, I know. Fuck, Louis, please be my boyfriend,” Harry pleaded, actually _getting down on his knees._ Louis nodded, allowing tears to fall, happy ones this time.

 

“Yes, I will, Jesus Christ, took you long enough.”

 

With that, Harry took Louis to his small dorm bed, fucking him slower and more passionately than ever before. They were still crying happily, finally have resolved their tension. 

 

Louis could live with this.

 

 

 

Four years later, Louis has graduated, and he’s moving in with Harry. Together they share Edgar, the man’s Chihuahua- Miniature Poodle mix(his favorite possession he got to keep in the divorce), and a cat, Lola. 

 

The house is different from when Harry shared it with Jessica. There is no longer art cluttering the guest room, and all of the throw pillows and curtains are now a comforting, homey deep blue. Harry only chose the color because he said it ‘reminded him of Louis’ eyes after a good night’s sleep,’ or some poetic romance shit like that. Secretly, it only made Louis’ heart goes that much fonder.

 

Another thing that has changed is the silver band on Louis’ ring finger, a proposal that was made nearly three months ago, for a wedding in five months. 

 

It’s a decision worth making the best of, on both sides. 

 

**Author's Note:**

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